


we'll have to say goodbye

by madwithmissing



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Magic, Oneshot, and simon and baz are on the opposite sides of it, its basically like canon never happened, so the war happened, they never started working together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 10:11:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17343404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madwithmissing/pseuds/madwithmissing
Summary: "I should kill you," he spits.He's never said it so seriously before."Then, do it," I coax. And I mean it.orthe story ends how baz always thought it would





	we'll have to say goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so glad i have this acc now so i can finally be validated (hopefully)
> 
> also the title's from that one penny quote " don't say hello... because then we'll have to say goodbye and i can't stand goodbyes"

This is the end. I’ve been avoiding it for years, trying to postpone it.

It’s hard to accept death when you’ve been waiting for it for most of your life. You convince yourself it’s so far away, that you have ages until it catches up with you. 

It’s caught up with me now.

Simon Snow has his fucking hand pushing on my chest and there’s blood in his eyes and I’m going to die today.

I said too much and hurt too much and fought too much and this time, no snarky quip could save me.

I can feel death creeping upon me before I can see it. 

It’s a calming presence, somehow, coaxing.  _ All will be okay. Just let go. _

I’ve never trusted calming things and I’m not starting now. 

Death is lying to my face and, for some reason, I’m letting it. 

I’ve envisioned Death since I was a kid and, yet, in all my years, I’ve never seen it as happy.

Death is pure joy. 

The end will be  _ joyous. _

This year felt like the end before it even began. Though it was my last at this school, with these people, with these gnawing feelings, it felt like I was choking. 

It went by at a snail’s pace, even when I willed it forward. 

Nothing, not even the universe, would grant me peace.

Life went on as normal for most, but I think even Snow noticed a shift. It was like he was giving me space, which was both painful and relieving.

Anyway, he’s certainly not keeping his distance now. I can feel his breath, ragged in front of me.

We’re in the middle of what I believe must be the last battle of our time here— it has that feeling, finality, a sort of bittersweet goodbye to swords before life goes on— and I have just killed the Mage.

I wish I could say I don’t know why I did it, or that I was so overcome with emotions, whether anger or a need to protect others, but I wasn’t. 

I knew exactly what I was doing. I was protecting  _ myself _ , my character, my reputation, my name. I did it because I was raised to fight for my family and I learned that I had to protect myself along the way. 

I thought once I had done it, a weight would be lifted, like I had found what I had been looking for all these years. 

Then, I had done it and it only felt like I had lost it. 

What I wanted, what I  _ really  _ wanted, was gone the second the spell left my mouth. 

He was gone, but still right in front of me. Applying pressure on my chest, actually. 

“Huh?” Snow asks like he’s waiting for me to answer a question. I must’ve missed it.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he demands, I’m assuming, for the second time. He’s irritated and it’s not helping anything. 

“I do what I have to do,” I rasp, trying my hardest to will my voice back. It’s the truth. I do what I need to survive. 

Clearly, surviving is not fated for me. 

“Well, it’s not good enough,” he says as if I don’t know that already. 

I smile, against every bone in my body aching, screaming at me not to. 

He mutters under his breath and I can tell he’s calling for his sword, wishing for it to come. 

It doesn’t show. 

I laugh in his face. 

“Why are you so fucking selfish?” he asks and my laughing stops. 

Because I was raised that way, I want to answer, because I’ve learned that it’s every man for himself, because giving pieces of my soul to people only leads to it getting taken away. 

Instead I ask, “Why are  _ you  _ so fucking righteous?”

I expect him to fumble at this, as he usually does, but he snaps back with “Because I’m right!” 

He’s not right, I know, but he says it with such conviction that it feels like he is. 

I don’t like that I didn’t see a retort coming. The world is off its axis and as he pushes on my chest, he tilts it more. 

We’re spinning through space faster than my heart is beating. 

My heart is going to beat out of my chest. 

He looks behind him and I know our eyes catch on the same thing. A sword, discarded. The battle has moved since we started this little fight of ours moments ago, everyone else feels worlds away. 

He pulls back to grab it and we aren’t touching anymore. 

I take the moment to catch my breath as I unsheathe my own sword. He turns back to me and, suddenly, we’re sparring. 

We’ve done this before, in class, with intent to annoy the other with a scratch. We weren’t allowed to physically hurt our partner in class, but we both found ways to do it anyways. It was like a game. 

This is not a game. 

“Why do you want to ruin me?” he asks, voice strong and forceful. The swords collide, a sickening crack echoing in the quiet. 

“Because you deserve to be ruined.” I think I believe it, but I’m losing my conviction. I’m losing it all. 

He asks, “Why do you hate me?”

I answer, “Because you deserve to be hated.”

I don’t believe what I’m saying anymore. It’s all nonsense. 

“Why do you want to take away everything I have?” he asks and this question doesn’t feel like a demand, it doesn’t feel like the pressing of a warrior, of the man fated to save our world. 

It feels like the aching of a boy. It’s the pleading of a child who just wants a fair shot. 

_ Life isn’t fair _ , I hear my father’s voice ring in my ears. He’s wrong on most things, but he wasn’t wrong on that. 

“I should kill you,” he spits.

He’s never said it so seriously before. 

“Then, do it,” I coax. And I mean it.

It makes me fumble.

He takes the moment to stab my side, carving a hole in my torso. He doesn’t even have the decency to kill me with a sword whose name he knows.

I cry out through gritted teeth and fall to the ground at the same speed as the sword he was holding. I’m sat up against a tree. My vision blurs, sounds get quieter. All I can hear is my heartbeat. And Snow’s loud feet on the leaves.

He kneels next to me and the conviction, the confidence I saw in him while I was still standing is gone. 

He saw this as a game, I think. 

He still thought we were just trying to give each other scratches. 

I concede, Snow. 

“Baz,” he whispers just as Death comes into view. 

Death looks like my version of the Humdrum. 

Like me when I was young, when my mind was occupied with friends and football and irritating Snow.

It’s me before life really began. 

I guess I was dead then, too, naive to what life really was, unprepared for toil of any sort. 

He smiles at me and I smile back, like we have a mutual understanding. 

I can hear my voice in my ears.  _ Let’s go, Baz. Let’s get out of here.  _

I want to go back to that time. 

Snow is looking at my face, watching all energy leave it. 

“Baz… I didn’t…” 

I know how he wants to end the sentence. He may have changed, but of this, I am sure. 

He didn’t think he would kill me when he wanted to. He saw me as an untouchable rival, a lifelong foe. He didn’t think I would die like humans do. He didn’t this he would have to watch the life leave my eyes. 

I know now what I need to do. 

I raise my arm, slowly, and put my hand on the back of his neck. 

He leans. 

This doesn’t feel like I wanted it to. 

_ I’m going to die kissing Simon Snow. _

I pull him closer, and he lets me. 

Our noses touch. 

“Goodbye, Simon,” I whisper against his lips. 

We’re kissing now and  _ this  _ feels how I thought it would. He’s strong and he’s sure even when I know he will question this the moment I’m gone. His hand raises to my neck, fingertips in my hair. 

The universe has granted me this, at least. 

I want to revel in this moment but I feel Death getting closer and with my last breath, I push. 

I push everything I have, all the magic I can possibly muster into him. 

I know he can feel it, for his hand runs faster through my hair. 

I push and I push until my tap runs dry. 

There is nothing left within me. 

I’ve given it all to Simon Snow. 

He pulls away and he’s crying. 

I might be crying too. 

I feel Death tug on my hand and I smile.

My last thought, as the world goes dark, is that I love him, and that it was all for nothing. 


End file.
